


Iuncti Pacem - Joined in Peace

by saccara



Category: Hannibal (2001), The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, don't expect canon-typical cannibalism or gore, this is only a romance, will be explicit in late chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:52:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4597023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saccara/pseuds/saccara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the sequel to my story 'With Impunity'.</p>
<p>Will she see him again or is everything dead between the two of them....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alone again

**Author's Note:**

> It won't make sense if you haven't read 'With Impunity' first. 
> 
> It has originally been written in 2002, like all my Hannibal/Clarice stories, but it was not finished. Now I finished it and also revised it. I will post it in here again. I'm not finished with the revising process therefore I won't post it in one go. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and your interest and I hope you’ll like it! I also would be crazily happy if you left a Kudo or a comment

Part 1: Alone Again

Clarice sat behind a desk, with one elbow propped on the table and her head leaning on one hand. It was actually her old desk. She waited there to be picked up again. Not a minute later a young agent she’d never seen before came to pick her up and bring her into an interrogation room. She had spent the last 13 days in that room in the FBI building, explaining and discussing and defending herself against the different kinds of accusations her superiors offered. She tried to appear calmly and arrogantly so that no one would suspect what really was going on in her mind.

Her story simply was that she had lost her memory – it was the truth anyway – and just regained tiny pieces from time to time. So she had wandered around without the knowledge of who she was and where she came from. And no, she had absolutely not the slightest idea where to Dr. Lecter had disappeared, not to mention where he was at the moment. Also no, she hadn’t been able to help Krendler because Lecter had drugged her and she had not been quite herself that night. 

All very decent answers, even though lies and even if they were actually of the opinion that she didn’t tell the truth, they just didn’t have any kind of a proof. Their hands were tied. 

Finally they left the room, all of them, and went outside to brood about her destiny. She was then sitting there for 38 minutes and 45 seconds - she knew exactly, because she had been staring at her watch every damn second from the time on they had left – then they came back and this time only two of them, both of them she didn’t know, to tell her that she would be getting her old job back, because there was no visible evidence that she had done something wrong. The younger one of the two patted her shoulder and said something like ‘Welcome back and good you’re alive’. Well, the hell with them, Clarice thought.

So still Special Agent Clarice Starling thanked them coolly, not even a hint of a smile on her face. She stood up and moved past the stunned and speechless agents and left the room. She just walked along the hallways somewhat oblivious to her surroundings. She never checked where she was going, she was just very deep in thought.  
Well, she should be crazily happy and kissing the dirty ground below her feet that everything worked out so well, but she couldn’t feel anything but the empty space within herself that just didn’t seem to fill up again. At least she had her job back and was able to work and to forget about what she could have had. It all felt as if she had been dreaming this whole time, or as if the dream was happening right now, and everything else was just a nightmare, or was this the nightmare, well kind of.  
Clarice wondered where he was now – she looked at her watch, it was 11.00 a.m. so he was probably sitting at the breakfast table, the paper in his elegant hands shaking his head about something he’d just read – no don’t do that, she told herself, it’ll only make things worse and you’ll never be able to forget. The problem was just that she wasn’t sure that she wanted to forget at all; it was an experience that was so unique that she wanted to treasure it. The only thing she craved for was to be able to not regret her decision to leave, because otherwise she’d never be able to enjoy her “normal” life as an agent again. Next month was her birthday. The 30est. Clarice smirked and giggled somewhat hysterically. She thought, I am gonna be 30 and there is nothing to live for, nothing, no man no kids no LIFE.... not even a pet! She shook her head, wasn’t she pathetic? And still, shouldn’t she be happy to still being alive, no but really, she rolled her eyes at herself. 

Suddenly, big hot burning tears were streaming down her cheeks. She let her head hang low and almost started to run. Blinded by the tears she looked around and around searching for the exit. For a second she thought about going back to her desk, to search for some normalcy but then decided to leave the FBI building. Her work only started again day after tomorrow or so they said, so she had some time to collect herself. 

When she was outside she went to her car, and got in, she slammed the door to her old Mustang shut, she felt a little safer and calmer. It was funny what this car did to her, it somehow felt like home – well not exactly home, how could a car be called ‘home’? But still it felt safe and comforting.

 

~°~

 

Clarice woke with the disturbing sounds of the doorbell, sleepily and not really awake she put on a dressing gown and went to the door barefooted. 

“Who is it?” she asked grumpily.

“I’ve got a package for you Ms. Starling!” said the familiar voice of her mailman.

Clarice opened the door and received a quite big package from him. She signed and went back into the house. 

Inside she went into the living room and sat on the couch. Starling curiously looked at the stamp and the sender address. It came from a Ms. Willer, in Southern California. She didn’t know someone called Willer, at not that she could recall. She went through her contacts to check, but the name didn’t ring a bell or appeared in her contacts list. 

Well, of course, Clarice thought of the possibility that Ms. Willer stood for a certain Doctor, which could be, and because all of this was rather fresh in her mind, the Doctor always was present. So she braced herself because the mere thought made her heart skip a beat or two. She then opened it hastily and after putting tons of old newspaper aside she produced a frame, it was about 25 inches long and 10 inches wide and it was a picture of her, drawn in charcoal, sitting at a breakfast table with a balcony in the background. Of course she knew that scenery, as well as she knew the artist. It was beautiful and Clarice all of a sudden couldn’t hold back tears. She put one hand over her mouth to prevent herself from sobbing openly. Her lithe body was cramped and trembled incessantly by all those emotions that she’d had to suppress all the time. She tried, she really tried, but it just was not use.

Suddenly, it all was too much, all kinds of feelings washed over her like a wave and she was overwhelmed, she couldn’t think clearly. Clarice could feel the anger that built up inside of her – it changed into fury – and she threw that frame all across the room against the nearest wall. It was a loud crash and bang and then the clinging sound of glass that is breaking. The glass broke into thousands and thousands of the tiniest little pieces. It was thrown into all corners of the room. The frame and the picture lay inches apart on the floor right where they had been smashed against the wall. 

Clarice climbed over the back of the couch and went to get herself some slippers, then she slowly walked over there and carefully to not cut herself picked up the drawing out of the broken glass on the floor. When she lifted it up a letter, which apparently had been hidden behind the paper, fell down. The fury changed into something very different: interest and most of all curiosity. She picked the letter up as well and stood up again.  
This might be the first proof of life since she had left him. Clarice went over to her couch again and sat down again. Her fingers trembled slightly when she carefully put down the drawing on the table and opened up the letter.

It was one of those letters from the Doctor she was used to. Expensive and elegant. 

 

She unfolded the stationary and started reading.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Dear Clarice,

You’re gone now and I feel empty and alone.

I hoped that you would stop hating me and that you would be staying with me out of your free will – but of course I should have known that you would stay loyal to that job of yours. 

Now then, that there does not seem to be anything worth living for left in this world I decided to say  
\- Farewell, my little Clarice - 

I hope you will achieve everything you have ever wished for and that your life will be ever so fulfilling and satisfying. 

In love,  
Hannibal Lecter, MD

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was all there was. 

Clarice shook her head and read it all over again, and again. This was so very strange. It didn’t sound like him at all, quite the reverse actually, it sounded as if he pretended that he’ll do something he’d never in his wildest dreams, except he was forced to, would do. --- Namely to kill himself --- 

 

Again she shook her head:” What in hell are you trying to say, Hannibal? And why do you rely on me to find out … you know I can’t cope with it!” she said loudly.

Starling stood up and, with the letter in her hand, paced around nervously. He probably wanted her to show the letter to the FBI – but why for Heaven’s Sake … ‘But, of course’ she thought, ‘he wants to get the FBI off his back’ … but did he really think this could work and why now of all times … and there were so many questions left … she decided to think it over before she’d show anything to the FBI. 

Clarice got dressed mechanically while all the time deep in thoughts. Only when she sat in her car and started the engine she noticed where she was and what she was doing. She really could not remember how she got into her Mustang. Special Agent Clarice Starling sat there, smiling about herself, apparently she would go to work.

 

~°~°~

 

The day didn’t bring her to a solution. It was actually a quite boring day – mainly paperwork – it seemed that they wanted to keep her on a low profile and it would take some time until they would assign her to a bigger case again, she assumed.

So what was she supposed to do about his letter … he surely was waiting for her to react or at least act? She thought about what he had written and if it might compromise her anyhow. 

Clarice smiled, of course he had it written as if all the time she had fought against him and as if he had tried to persuade her to stay but hadn’t succeeded, which actually was true somehow, except that she had started to feel something for him: excitement, interest and maybe love … and then he had set her free after some horrible time of torture. She scoffed.

‘Hannibal you did it again. Again I don’t have the slightest chance to get you out of my system … you’ll be there forever, won’t you?’ … Clarice thought a little wistfully, but also kind of amused. 

She was not angry that he had written her, no not at all, she was just annoyed, because deep within herself she knew that he knew that she regretted the decision to leave him. She regretted it so much that she had been furious when she had looked at the picture he had drawn for her. She regretted that she hadn’t finally surrendered to her feelings and slept with him. She had wanted it so much, at least her body in the first place, but couldn’t have brought herself to it ... and, she regretted to have given up all those intriguing discussions with him, yes, she definitely regretted it. It crashed into her mind like a flash into a tree: she really would have approved of a life with a man who had killed several people. 

It seemed that she had somehow made up her mind without even being aware of it. But it was too late now. She had left him there, made him feel miserable, at least of that she was certain. Would he take her back? Well, he had said so at some point, but he might have changed his mind….. you’d never know with him.  
Clarice decided to sleep on it, the next day was Saturday and she didn’t have to go to work. She hoped by then she would know what to do about her little problem.

 

~°~°~

 

The next morning Starling again woke with the sound of her doorbell, which was ringing constantly, as if somebody was leaning on it. Reluctantly she looked at her watch, it was 8:37 a.m. and much too early for Clarice’s taste. She wondered what it would be this time, put on a dressing gown and stood up to get the door.  
Clarice opened. 

A young man was leaning against the doorframe. Clarice knew him from somewhere, she wondered from where.

She looked past him at the car that was parked down the street. Inside sat another man. The he shoved his credentials into her face and she knew from where she knew him. 

 

“Can I help you – uh - Agent Petersen?” she read in his credentials and asked.

 

“Agent Starling?” he said more or less friendly, and put his credentials back into his jacket.

 

“I am supposed to accompany you back to the headquarters.”

 

Clarice frowned. “Why, it is Saturday … I don’t understand. …. ?” 

 

“There’s no more to say. I have my orders to bring you there, and actually I don’t know either, but even if I knew, I probably weren’t supposed to tell you. You know the procedures, Starling!” he kind of smirked, and Clarice decided that very moment that she didn’t like him.

 

“Ok. I’ll be back in five,” and she slammed the door right into his stupid grin.

 

~°~°~

 

Clarice sat in the back seat of the black FBI car, and thought very hard about what they could want this time. Actually she was a little worried. What if they somehow had found out about the real circumstances with Hannibal? But how could that have happened? Had he perhaps contacted them? No, he’d never do that! Never. She shook her head ever so slightly. ‘This could prove to be very interesting’, Clarice thought to herself….

 

~°~°~

TBC

I hope you like it :)  
Thanks for reading.


	2. Another Sign

This looked all too familiar …. A dozen pairs of eyes were directed at her when she entered the conference room. She was seated at one of the empty chairs opposite to them. Everything looked just too familiar, it was just another room, but the same old faces, Clarice sighed. Maybe she was about to be dismissed again, she wondered, but for what cause? Did they really know something about Hannibal and herself … ‘damn, what is it you have against me’ she thought. Inside herself the feelings played thunderstorm, outside she appeared to be calm and superior, the perfect professional, Special Agent Clarice Starling.

The door opened and the big boss entered the room. She hadn’t spoken to him since the incidents with Ivelda Drumgo. She wasn’t very eager to have to now, but there was no getting out, so she had to face it, again all alone with apparently the whole FBI against her. Clarice sighed.

He sat down, opened his jacket and fixed his tie, which actually was totally and absolutely in fine order. So he was kind of nervous too. What was wrong with all these people, what in hell had she done, what evidence did they have? Again so many questions that remained unanswered.

 

“Agent Starling?” one of those suits addressed her suddenly.

“Yes sir!” she found his gaze and held it steadily, which was disturbing him anyhow, so he averted his eyes for a second. She loved that. It seemed that he believed that she was hiding something and might feel guilty and would flinch, but well, no luck there.

“Is it right that you received a parcel a day ago?” he went on.

 

For heaven’s sake - how did they know about that? All of a sudden the scales fell from her eyes. They had probably been intercepting her mail all the time. Oh no! She should have thought about that. What a deadly mistake! Clarice tried to stay calm. It was her only chance. ‘Try to explain it somehow’ she told herself.

 

“Yes sir, positive, I received a parcel yesterday!”

 

“Well Starling, tell us what the contents were of the parcel?” she cursed herself inwardly they knew exactly. 

 

This was a trap, they wanted to get her out of the department. What now? Think, girl, think… could they know about the letter too… well of course they presumably had searched it for fingerprints or any other sign from the Doctor. They must have found the letter as well. Probably they also had it copied before they put it back in between the frame and the drawing.

 

“Well Sir, the contents were a framed picture of myself drawn in charcoal and a letter, which was hidden behind the picture!”

 

“Well … “ he stopped, then there was an uncomfortable silence,” isn’t there something else you might want to tell us Agent Starling?” he grinned sort of meanly.

 

“Other than the fact that the parcel probably was sent by Dr. Hannibal Lecter, sir, I am not sure what you mean?” she grinned back, and it gave her great satisfaction that his grin faded and his lips then were just a thin line. He reminded her so much of Krendler that her stomach screamed with disdain. She had been so grateful that she would not have to face him again, thanks to the Doctor, and now this.

Krendler number two now looked at his superiors as if to ask for instructions. Big Boss nodded and again he looked at her.

 

“Starling, are you aware that you were holding back evidence? Your task would have been to at once inform the headquarters that you’ve received a parcel from a member of the ten most wanted list, but you didn’t. Of course, by now, you have noticed that we have intercepted your mail. In the first place it was meant to be to guard you, but it seems now that there is more yet to your stay with Hannibal Lecter than you have wanted us to believe. Maybe you should tell us now why you didn’t inform us about the parcel and what you know about the whereabouts of Hannibal Lecter?”

 

Clarice’s mind worked at rocket speed and actually they should probably all hear the cogs turning. In that millisecond that she had before it would get suspicious she actually had an epiphany and she went with it. 

 

“Sir, I survived quite a long time in the presence of Hannibal Lecter and when I received that parcel I was in complete shock. I smashed that frame against the wall, you can check that, the glass is still sprayed all across the room, and I finally found the letter, which I read. And of course I instantly thought about informing you, but I first wanted to think it over. As you know I am the only one who ever has been that close to him, if you can call it ‘close’, I am also the one that probably knows him the best and I just wanted to consider what he was trying to say with his words in his letter a…” She couldn’t even finish when Krendler number two interrupted.

 

“Isn’t it perfectly clear, what he wants to say with his letter? – He is about to kill himself – out of love for you Agent Starling, how touching, ain’t it?” again this ugly grin. She’d love shove it into his stupid face.

 

“Sir, that’s what I meant to think about, I am not sure what he means with his words. That’s why I waited .. I just was too confused. Isn’t that understandable? I admit I shouldn’t have waited that long, but I wanted to think about it over the weekend and give it to you Monday morning!” 

 

Again there was silence. 

 

Krendler two was talking very quietly to his superiors and Clarice thought about the odds that she would be allowed to stay in the FBI. It was such an awkward and delicate situation. She cursed herself for not thinking about the possibility that they might search her mail.

 

“Agent Starling…. “ before he could finish his sentence two young agents burst into the room.

 

They were holding cell phones in their hands and one of them had a piece of paper in his hands. He put the paper in front of the chief inspector, who was reading whatever was written there, a deep frown appeared on his forehead.

 

“Can I have your attention, please. We just received this fax and lots of calls from the local police stations that the body of Dr. Hannibal Lecter has been found. The body seems to be totally burned caused by an explosion of a car engine, which he seemed to have been driving but an impression has been made and the dental department says there is proof that it is the impression of Hannibal Lecter.” 

 

Silence hung heavily over their heads.

 

Clarice sat there in total disbelief – that was impossible. 

 

He could not be dead.

 

It couldn’t be true.

He could not be dead. She said it over and over again in her mind. She was totally oblivious to everything that was going on in the room. Everybody was talking all of a sudden, but Clarice could only think of the times she had spent in his presence. The excitement she had felt whenever he was near her. NO – it was not true … it could not be true …. 

 

~°~

TBC


	3. Is he dead?

Dead – dead – dead ----- Hannibal Lecter dead – the monster is dead – the cannibal is dead ---- those were the only things Clarice heard from everywhere. She propped her elbows on the table and leaned her head against into her hands to prevent herself from fainting. This was just too much……  
It was a total chaos, the whole FBI headquarters seemed to be like the biggest anthill ever. 

 

“Starling! …. Hey Starling .. Special Agent Starling?” The voice got even louder.

 

Clarice woke out of a stadium of profound trance. She lifted her head and searched for the voice that had addressed her. Of course it was that suit, Krendler number two. 

 

“Are you coming or do I have to send you a written invitation?” he said sarcastically.

Clarice stood up walked past him with a disdainful look on her face that was meant for Agent Springer, which was the name of the Krendler two.   
He told her angrily to be careful about her behavior in his presence and that it was not his idea so she should be thanking the boss alone, because he himself would have never let her go. The slimy bastard seemed to produce the words like a ventriloquist, because he hardly opened his mouth to speak. He must be quite furious, Clarice thought kind of satisfied.

 

~°~

 

Reluctantly, she followed Springer and the other agent, and climbed onto the back seat of the FBI car and sat down – ill at ease in his company.

Neither of the agents spoke while the 15 minutes trip to the scene of the crime. Clarice was chewing incessantly on her lower lip until the car stopped and everybody was getting out.   
Nervously, she got out as well not really sure what exactly was happening there. She looked around. There were dozens of police cars and officers, at least ten ambulances and fire engines. The car lay in a ditch beside a deserted road. The grass around it was brown and black from the fire and it smelled burnt … everything smelled burnt. Sickness crawled up her throat. The car was totally burnt out and it was nothing much left than the bodywork. Once it must have been a brilliantly polished Jaguar. The sign was still visibly on the front of the car. Clarice tried to imagine Lecter sitting in that car before the accident. It felt right, but was this really his car … had he been driving it … is the body his? So many unanswered questions, again. Her eye then fell on the crowd. There must be more than a hundred people standing around just doing nothing or the opposite running wild. One of the agents around Springer signaled her to come over. Slowly she obeyed and walked over to them. 

It was as if something was pushing her back, an invisible power that tried to force her to stay behind, to not watch it – him – what was left of him – Hannibal – the Cannibal – Lecter, a power that almost seemed to be stronger than her, but then again the voice of that bastard Springer woke her out of it - out of that delirium.

 

“Starling, get the fuck over here .. a n d .. yesterday.” he snarled.

 

Clarice’s feet moved kind of automatically, until she stood in front of the most terrible thing she had seen in her whole life, and she had seen horrible things, but even if actually there had been uglier or scarier things she had had to experience, this was just that horrible because it was the body, or at least it was supposed to be, the body of the Doctor. 

She looked at him, it – the body was completely burnt and kind of bended, the jaw was opened widely, probably out of pain. That thought suddenly gave her a sharp pang and her stomach contracted. --- NO she thought to herself .. please don’t let this be him .. I can’t stand this…. ----

With a rapid movement she turned her head away – away from the sight of the deadly burnt body – a body which was said to belong to Hannibal.

Clarice suddenly felt sick – one hand pressed tightly onto her mouth she turned and ran away. It screwed up her throat and she felt as if she was suffocating. Dizziness and a sudden feeling of nausea made her stumble and she almost fell down into the grass.

She stopped at the FBI car, breathing very hard. Behind the veil of dizziness she heard voices and the laughter of Springer. He seemed to be laughing at her. She hated him even more for that. Then she heard him saying:

 

“Starling, what is it – can’t stand to see your darling Lecter dead. Is it too much for you girl, huh – pity that you just pretend to be that tough. Now we know how it really is!” and again there was that cackling laughter. The fury inside her grew but she had nowhere to go to get rid of it. Clarice decided to get it over with, to somehow survive this farce. She swallowed it down, several times, then straightened her shoulders and decided to be as strong as she could be. 

~°~ 

She had to stick to it for more than two hours until all tests had been made and everybody had gathered enough information. The body was taken into possession and the car as well was found and taken in. Then all of them finally got back into the headquarters. 

Clarice was then free to go home. They would question her again on Monday. She was suspended until everything was cleared up, but as it was obvious that he killed himself as he had said in the letter, she obviously wasn’t in cahoots with Hannibal Lecter therefore they would probably let her get away with this as well. Strangely again she was not really glad about it. 

 

~°~

 

Tired and very depressed she climbed out of the car that had brought her home and shut the door behind herself. It was dark already. She went to her house and opened the door. She walked in and closed it with her back leaning against it. She turned on the lights. One second she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. --- Hannibal d e a d. ----

Those words did not seem to have a meaning in her head, at least not the real one. At the moment former Agent Starling shook her head, put her keys and her bag on the highboy and went into the living room. She sat down on the couch and watched the slivers of glass that glittered from the light that came from the hall.   
She leaned back and must have fallen asleep when the doorbell woke her, again. 

Sleepily she stood up and walked over to the door and opened it. It was a telegram from a courier service she had never heard of. She signed and took it then opened it, it said.

 

\--- I have information regarding the death of Hannibal Lecter, meet me at the crime scene the day after tomorrow at 6 p.m. Lucinda Walker MD --- 

 

“Lucinda Walker?” Clarice said aloud. What was that all about, she wondered. She did not know a woman by this name. Would she go? 

~°~°~

TBC


	4. Who is Ms. Walker

Clarice sat in her beloved car, her Mustang, and drove home from work. The Monday had been strangely quiet. Nobody came to question her, she had been sitting there in her office twiddling her thumbs, while hours had passed by and nothing, absolutely nothing, had happened – except shortly before end of work some guy brought her the message that the file Hannibal Lecter was closed temporarily and that it would remain closed till new evidence would appear. So she would definitely not be questioned about him again, not about the stay at his house or about the letter or the drawing – none of it was important anymore. The Monster was dead.   
To clear her mind of her thoughts she turned on the radio.

 

`…and the police found a body, that has proven to be a member of the ten most wanted list, known as Dr. Hannibal Lecter, The Cannibal, the car was burnt out and… ´

 

Clarice turned it off again, she couldn’t hear it anymore. It haunted her, he haunted her day and night. Not that she was the least bit afraid – no – it just was not fair that she could not stop thinking about him.

 

“Well Hannibal you did it, didn’t you?” she said aloud. “Even in death you’re still with me – you’ll always will be … “ the last words were just a fainted whisper.

 

She looked at her watch. It was 6:35 p.m. and in less than 90 minutes Dr. Lucinda Walker would be waiting for her. She still was not sure about it. What would it be that this woman wanted to talk to her about? 

Clarice was not sure at all, but there was one thing she was completely sure of, that she would be going to meet her. 

 

~°~°~

 

She stood there freezing in the twilight. It was five past six and she already began to worry. Clarice changed the hand that was holding the umbrella, because it was getting cold. The rain was falling steadily and it was really uncomfortable to stand there in the wet grass.

Five long minutes later she started to pace around nervously and finally decided to get back into her car, when she saw the lights of another car coming closer. There wasn’t much traffic on the road and she wondered if it was the woman she was supposed to meet here or if it was somebody else. When it was about three hundred yards from her it stopped short and the lights went out. Clarice squinted and tried to make out something but it was raining to heavily and not close enough. A door opened and one person got out. The stranger wore a coat. That was the only thing Clarice noticed. She still could not say if it was a woman or a man and could not see anything special about the person in that light and rain. He or she just stood there doing nothing. Seconds passed and still nothing … not one movement. Clarice trembled. She could not say if from the cold or because she was scared to death. It was just like a scene from a horror movie, the weather, the light, the situation and this strange person that was standing there a long distance away from her.

And it made her crazy that he or she did not do anything. Clarice thought about getting into her car, then starting the engine and fleeing from this predicament, but what could this be about at the worst? Well, Lucinda Walker could be a next of kin of one of his victims and now she was about to have her revenge upon him and everyone that’s had something to do with him. But `Walker´ - she thought about the name – no, there was no Walker in the whole file --- of course, she could have changed the name – but that was rather far-fetched. What else could it be: someone who had killed Lecter and now tried to kill her, but why? No not very plausible. Or it was just Dr. Walker who was scared as well and did not dare to get closer to Clarice. -----

 

There was another possibility – of course – but Clarice tried hard to not even think about it, that it maybe was him and that he had just planned the whole thing and was not dead. No, Clarice, no they have the impression and it definitely was him – the FBI had closed the file because they had all the facts that proved that he was dead.

All of a sudden, the person slowly raised one hand and even slower waved. Then the stranger got back into the car. The lights were turned back on again. Clarice heard the engine roaring and quietly watched when the car with the stranger dissolved into the night. 

She stood there a few minutes longer in the rain. Her shoes and socks wet from the rain. She still trembled, but she was relieved and oddly calm. She realized one thing that all time should have been clear to her. 

 

~°~°~

TBC


	5. The Monster is Back?

Standing there in the rain she felt strangely excited, partly because of the frightening experience she just had lived through and partly because she had that profound feeling that he was alive, wherever that came from, but the wave, and the eerie feeling she while watching it, she didn’t know why that was the case, but her body tingled all over and her hands were sweaty, she just knew it, even if the whole FBI thought he was dead.

‘Maybe I just want him to be alive so badly that the stranger seemed to be Lecter’ she murmured to herself.

Shaking her head she returned to her car, and only then she noticed that she was soaking wet from the steady rain even though she had an umbrella, which she must have discarded at some point. Her hair clung to her cheeks and tiny water droplets ran down her soft skin. Her face was pale and she was freezing terribly. She sat down and closed the door. She folded the umbrella and put it in the back. Then she took off her jacket, which was dripping all over the seats. She started the engine and went home. 

On the way back she was brooding about her encounter with that dark figure. Could it really have possibly been him or was she just imagining things, wishing things? The problem was that she simply had no way of finding out the truth, because she wasn’t able to talk to anybody about this, so what should she do? A name sprang to her mind, Lucinda Walker, the doctor, it was the easiest way to get to know anything about this - if she had been the stranger it was alright to talk to her and if not maybe she knew something, well if she existed at all, which was not sure anyway.

She would research that woman as soon as she came home. 

Suddenly Clarice went all pale and almost choked, oh my, what if the still intercepted the mail, what if the also searched all her other devices, her computer her mobile? She had to be really careful, she would check it with headquarters, just to make sure. Now that he was dead, she was probably free from such monitoring methods. She hoped. 

Again she thought about the details from the FBI files. They had mentioned that it had to be Lecter, because the teeth impression they took proved exactly that it was him. Also as there of course were no finger prints left on the burnt flesh and the body nearly decayed into ashes with every touch, it was no use trying to get any DNA-tests ready. They had tried it for sure but the results were limited to around 43% which was normal under the given circumstances. So they had to weigh the 100% from the impression against the 43% from the DNA and came to the conclusion that an impression was the perfect proof with a burnt body. So after all these years they closed the case file and declared Hannibal Lecter dead. Clarice thought it way too easy, but it wasn’t her decision at all, and she was biased because she couldn’t believe him to be dead, or more so she didn’t want him to be dead. Actually, she found it hard to imagine a life without the fact that he could be there somewhere waiting for her. Also she was furious that the decision to return to him should be taken away from her just like this, it was her decision, and for it to be taken away like this, from fate, no that was not right, that was not fair. 

 

~°~°~

 

After having her communication, acting and flirting skills working for her, and finding out that all the monitoring had been suspended with her suspension, because auf his death, she was free to research all that she wanted. 

The computer didn’t give her much. A Dr. Lucinda Walker, MD, at least did exist, but not in the States but in Canada, namely Toronto, and she was a dentist, which brought a smile to Clarice’s face. Teeth impression – dentist …. That would prove to become a very interesting trip. She would have to go to Springer her next superior to ask for a holiday. Starling sighed. Springer would take this as a wonderful occasion to mock her again, she knew it, something like ‘Oh Starling aren’t we taking it a little bit too hard, huh, you surely must miss him that you need to take some days off’ … she knew that he would produce something like that. ~Aargh~ she moaned. 

“I hate him – I hate him – I hate him … “she said loudly.

Clarice wrote down the doctor’s address, and put the paper slip into her bag. She tore away the next three slips of paper from the notebook, to not get in trouble because of that. At least she hadn’t begun to getting careless because of the events of the past. She checked the pad again, and was satisfied because nothing was visible anymore.

Finally in her bed she noticed that she was really tired and exhausted. It had been too much the last days or should she say weeks or months.  
Lying awake for some more minutes and thinking of him again she finally fell asleep.

 

~°~°~

 

The door to her house opened quietly and slowly. A person entered the room. The figure moved smoothly like a panther not making any noise. Running a finger over the still wet jacket which hung behind the door, the person smiled an amused smile. The stranger went to the table on which Clarice placed her bag some minutes ago. He roamed through it until he found what he was looking for – the little slip of paper – again he smiled. He produced a pen from under his coat to write something down on the paper slip. After he finished he folded it neatly to put it back into the bag so that she would find it in the same place.

For a second he just stood there in the room to raise his head slightly and take a deep breath. With his eyes closed he let the smell sink into his system. The stranger sighed. The smell made his heart beat wildly and a warm tender feeling washed over him like a tidal wave. 

 

He had missed her.

~°~

TBC


	6. Back on the road

Clarice woke up the next day and discovered that she must have caught a cold the previous night when she was standing there in the rain, because her head was aching badly and she felt as if she had done a twenty miles march. 

She got up slowly and went to take a bath to sooth her aching body. Lying there in the hot tub she felt the tension leave her body and she started to relax. She wanted to be ready for whatever was about to come, and she needed her wits to be as sharp as ever and then some. 

~°~°~

“No Sir, I am just a little exhausted from the last events that’s all. I know that I haven’t worked very long since my return to the FBI but I am just tired.” She explained.  
Springer smirked at her. “Of course Starling, your darling is dead and you are understandably sad about this” he said with his usual dripping sarcasm, but never was sarcasm so out of place but with Springer, but still she had to admit that Krendler had done his best as well, his had been even more out of place most of the time.

“Sir, I just need these few days?” she paused. “I won’t be of much use to you anyway at the moment, I just need a break from all this. Surely you do understand?” she tried to use her big blue eyes as much as she could with a much practiced pleading look. 

It seemed to work. 

He sighed. “Oh alright Starling take’em, you’ of no good use here anyway, you’re right.” 

He was such an a..hole. Clarice was angry despite herself, she had provoked his reaction of course, in the end this was exactly what she had expected him to do, but still, she would have loved to shoot him right then and there in his office, but she swallowed her anger and just nodded, averted her eyes and then turned to leave the room.

“Oh and Starling, make sure to return on time” - he paused to continue – “This time you have no excuse to take off several weeks, ‘cause he’s dead, ain’t he?” he grinned at her.

Clarice needed to just stop listening to him, because if she did, she might still have to use her gun, so she just continued to walk out of his office and out of the FBI building, without as much as one single look back. 

~°~°~

Back home she gathered her things and packed a little bag. She would be away for only two or three days, her financial situation was hardly great, and the money would be just enough for the flight and a hotel room for a few days. 

She picked up her purse to check if everything was there. Tickets, money, passport, some other things and the paper slip. She unfolded it to read it over again and could not believe her eyes at first. This was not possible. She blinked several times to make sure that she wasn’t imagining things. What she saw there, below the address she’d written down, made her open her mouth with astonishment. She would recognize this handwriting amongst thousands. It was written in Hannibal’s unique handwriting.

It said: “DEAD END, Clarice”

 

~°~°~

Suddenly, Clarice’s heart started beating rapidly in her chest. She suddenly felt the need to look around as if there was even the slightest possibility that he was still here. She could not believe it. He had been in her house, sometime last night. So many thoughts were running through her mind. She couldn’t concentrate. She felt excited, delighted, frightened and kind of disappointed with him for not kind of saying hello and with herself for not noticing. Shouldn’t she have noticed that he had been here, shouldn’t she have felt him, sensed him, of even smelled him. His aftershave or whatever. It was kind of childish she had to admit, but somehow she just felt that she should have been able to somehow know and feel that something had changed, because Hannibal Lecter himself had visited her. It really was childish, she shook her head, irritated with herself.

Then suddenly she paused and she realized, he really had been here in her house, this was all proof she needed.

He really was ALIVE.

There was still time for her to decide what she wanted. She felt, she was not sure what she felt, there was a turmoil of feelings inside of her. She would analyse later, she promised herself. 

One thing was sure, she was so relieved, it was as if everything all of a sudden was brighter and lighter.

Then she started to think about his message. What did he mean with “dead end”? That Walker was dead or that she wouldn’t find anything in Toronto? Should she go anyway? Perhaps he was just playing games with her, he just loved to play and well why not. She was game. 

Decision made. She would go anyway, she’d find something in Canada, at least she hoped so, her gut told her to go, and usually her gut was right. 

Agent Starling took her purse and her bag and went outside. Her search began. She was not sure yet. Did she want to find him to be with him or did she want to prove that he was alive – to her and the FBI. She shook her head, there still was a lot left of the ambitious agent she once had been. Clarice decided to think about that when she had finally found him, and she was sure she would, if not in Canada then somewhere else. 

~°~°~

tbc


	7. Trip to insanity

A little air hole woke her out of her reverie. Clarice sighed deeply. She looked out of the window and enjoyed the sight. It was great to be that high above. One day I’ll have to learn how to fly, she thought to herself. It was something that was on her bucket list, and there were a lot of things on it, at the moment number one was to find Hannibal, or course. Her thoughts went straight back to his message. 

‘Dead End’ – His words sprang to her mind again and she wondered if this trip will turn out to be a complete mistake or if he’ll just try to confuse her. She scoffed. It would be just like him to play games. He loved games. She had to chuckle in spite of herself. She still could not quite believe what she was about to do. She tried to find him and to hunt him down, and then? Well, that was to be decided later, wasn’t it? She felt a small tingle of excitement in the pit of her stomach. ‘Get a grip girl’ she demanded from herself. She didn’t really know what it was she was so excited about. Well actually, of course she knew, but she wouldn’t allow herself to even let her mind drift away into such dangerous areas. 

Clarice sat up straight, as if that brought her back to the facts of life. But wasn’t that the real problem: what were the facts of life? Hadn’t they changed quite a bit? If she was frank, and she tried hard to be, her principles and somehow her morals and ethics had changed or even more turned to be upside down. She, Clarice Starling, federal agent of the FBI loved a criminal fugitive, a mass murderer and one of the worst kind, maybe the worst. She loved him, she really loved him, truly, madly, deeply ... it was her open secret. Now, how was she supposed to keep on loving him, to even live with him? She couldn’t allow her to think about those things, because then the possibility to go insane was even higher than it already was. 

Clarice rubbed the bridge of her nose to force away the threatening headache. She unfastened her seat belt, stood up, collected herself and walked over to the small air plane toilet. She went in and closed the door behind her. She turned on the tab and washed her face. The cool water helped a little, but it did not do much to calm her down. Clarice unlocked the door again and closed it quietly behind herself. While she turned around to walk back to her seat a familiar scent filled her nostrils. Immediately her eyes searched around, but there was no sight of him. Could she have been mistaken? It was his aftershave, she knew that for sure, but of course he wouldn’t be the only one to wear it. She shook her head slightly and walked back to her seat. When she had passed the third row in the front she noticed the scent was coming from some man who was traveling with his family. She felt sadly disappointed. 

She was probably slowly losing her mind. Clarice sighed again.

°~°..............°~°

It rained strongly in Canada, and it was cold. She bought a road map and fetched the rental car.

She sat down behind the wheel and with a low thud she closed the door of the rental, then picked up her bag and got out the small piece of paper with the address and the note from Hannibal. ‘Dead End, Clarice’ ... again the words ran through her mind. She brooded about it again, but without any result still. What did he mean by that? She just couldn’t make sense of it. Finally she tucked it away again started the engine and drove off.

After some miles she had the funny feeling that someone was following her. A dark car followed her every move. She tried it out and turned left all of a sudden, then pulled up. Clarice waited. No car in sight. After some minutes she gave up and was actually positive that she had just imagined the persecutor, but then the car turned the corner and started to follow her again.

Her heart skipped a beat. It was a dark green Jaguar. His favorite brand in cars. Could it be him?

°~°~°~°

Clarice drove on and accelerated. ‘Come on Hannibal, or whoever you are - chase me!’ she whispered.

°~°~°~°

tbc

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse any and all mistakes, I don’t have a beta, and English is not my first language. If there are canonical mistakes regarding the books or the movies, I probably made them incidentally, so please be kind. Ta


End file.
